Sunday

And then

I let go.

The next breath I took

Filled my sails

Oh so deep and wide and white

Has it really been so long

Since I’ve taken

That element that is rightfully mine to take?

My face is read for blushing

And I am not a stone,

Because I am myself

And myself has just untangled

The webs,

And surmounted

That hill

Surrounded by clouds.

The damp wisps that hover

Are really just the leaves of my righting time

My pencil, pen and tear times

My wondering, waiting, hoping times

My how-do-you-know-you-just-know times

I exhale, so lightly

Because walking has taught me

That maybe it wasn’t myself

After all